Some selections. May be added to.

(I lived in Tasmania for just over eight years. I left in June 2009. This was my first journey back , after fourteen years. With different ears.)

2023.09.06-29 To Tasmania and Back, by Car

Victorian Smooth Froglets (Geocrinia victoriana), also known as Eastern Smooth Froglets, singing from the margins of a forest pool between bouts of strong wind through the crests of Eucalyptus regnens. Recorded at noon in early Spring in Great Otway National Park, Victoria.

Listening at a low to mid level with good quality headphones (binaural recording) is recommended.

Recorded on the land of the indigenous Gadubanud (Katabanut) peoples.

2023.09.06 Smooth Froglets between the Wind. Early Spring.

A calm and meditative ambience recorded during early evening at the edge of Lake Elizabeth, Great Otway National Park, just before the onset of strong winds followed by heavy rain that continued throughout the night.

Listening at a low to mid level with good quality headphones (preferably open-backed) is recommended. Binaural recording.

Recorded on the land of the indigenous Gadubanud (Katubanut) peoples.

About the recent natural formation of Lake Elizabeth: https://vro.agriculture.vic.gov.au/dpi/vro/coranregn.nsf/pages/corangamite_landform_lake_elizabeth

2023.09.07 Lake Elizabeth Quietude 1. Early Spring.

A calm and meditative ambience recorded during the early evening, in a rare still moment prior to heavy rain and high winds, near Lake Elizabeth, Great Otway National Park.

Listening at a low to mid level with good quality headphones (preferably open-backed) is recommended. Binaural recording.

Recorded on the land of the indigenous Gadubanud (Katubanut) peoples.

About the recent natural formation of Lake Elizabeth: https://vro.agriculture.vic.gov.au/dpi/vro/coranregn.nsf/pages/corangamite_landform_lake_elizabeth

2023.09.07 Lake Elizabeth Quietude 2. Early Spring.

Tasmanian Devil (Sarcophilus harrisii = "Harris's flesh-lover"). In Palawa Kani, 'Purinina'.* Recorded respectfully on the land of the Tommeginne people.

This is a brief excerpt from a recording made during the night while my daughter and I stayed in a log cabin at Mountain Valley retreat in Loongana, northwestern Tasmania.** We were very fortunate to be the only guests staying there at the time. As he always does for his guests, in the early evening, our kind and knowledgeable host, Len, produced some road-kill collected earlier from a local road - in this case, a large wombat carcase (seen in the right panel of the track photo) - tying it and pegging it directly in front of our cabin verandah, in anticipation of Tasmanian Devils visiting during the night to feed on the fresh carcase.

Len attached a night vision camera to a verandah post (sample images seen in the left panel of the track photo), and I set up a pair of Sennheiser MKH 8060 supercardioids at the edge of the verandah, less than a couple of metres away from the carcase, with Mogami cables passing through the window to a MixPre-6 II inside the cabin, recording at 96 kHz and 32 bit float. This is a sample extract of what happened during the night.

The night was perfectly still and calm, not the slightest breath of a breeze, and the sky was perfectly clear. The temperature fell well below 0° C soon after midnight. Before dawn, a lovely dense mist filled the landscape.

In the first minute of the recording, you will hear a Ringtail Possum feeding on the meat. At 1:10, the Possum suddenly scurries hurriedly up into a nearby tree, as a Tasmanian Devil approaches, and soon begins munching on flesh and crushing bones with its powerful jaws.

You may wonder about the source of the persistent background 'white noise' in this recording. It is the sound of the flowing River Leven, emanating and filling the whole valley. It is an ever-present sound, and it is especially clear when the air is calm and still. It is a natural reality.
. . . . . . .

What killed the wombat on the road at night? I think it highly unlikely to have been a tourist campervan, or even a local's 4WD. A wombat is a large animal and easy to see from a distance. My guess is a log truck. They work 24/7, run on a tight schedule, and drive as fast as they can manage on winding roads - especially after having unloaded, and are rushing back to the logging coupe for the next load. Sudden swerving at high speed to avoid an animal on the road is extremely dangerous for any vehicle, let alone for a large logging truck. Besides, a large wombat, or even a large Forester Kangaroo, is hardly going to leave the slightest dent in the front end of a logging truck.

Len collected the roadkill and deliberately set it out on his wilderness property for the purpose of attracting and feeding Tasmanian Devils living in the area, for the sake of providing a unique and illuminating experience to his visitors. (It also gets the roadkill far away from the road, where it would endanger more animals that would come to feed on it.) In this respect, I consider him to be a conscientious educator. I do not consider this act to be a distortion of nature, by any means; whereas, I do very much consider the continued logging of old growth native forest (which is still happening today, right now***) to be a fundamentally unethical and ecologically consequential abuse of nature. A final line needs to be drawn, in perpetuity.

_____________________________
* See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tasmanian_devil and https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palawa_kani

** https://www.mountainvalley.com.au/

*** See, e.g.,https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2023/oct/30/tree-hobart-cbd-native-forest-logging-reform-tasmania and https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2023/aug/30/the-massacre-of-tasmanias-forests-could-be-stopped-at-any-time-where-are-australias-leaders.

2023.09.12 Tasmanian Devil (Purinina) Excerpt. Early Spring.

An excerpt from a dawn recording in Mountain Valley Private Nature Reserve, Loongana, Tasmania.

In this gentle 'dawn parliament of the birds', the voices of all the birds you will hear are indigenous, except for one.

The first small bird that is heard warbling, near to the microphones, is, I believe, the Tasmanian Thornbill (Acanthiza ewingii), which is found only in Tasmania.

Listening with good quality headphones (preferably open-backed), or good quality speakers, is recommended.

Recorded respectfully on the land of the Tommeginne people.

MKH 8040s in ORTF into F3.

2023.09.14 Loongana Dawn. Early Spring.

An excerpt from an attended recording made late in the afternoon at the shore of Leeawuleena ('Sleeping Water', in the Larmairremener language), more recently known as Lake St Clair, in Tasmania. During the recording, due to occasional fine, light rain, I was holding an open umbrella over the microphone rig and myself. At one moment, included in this excerpt, a very fine hail briefly showered down; the tiny hailstones melted soon after they landed on the rocks and pebbles. (The distant roar to the far left is the sound of the Cuvier River flowing into the lake, about two kilometres away as the bird flies.)

Listening with good quality headphones (preferably open-backed) is recommended. This is a binaural recording.

Recorded respectfully on the land of the Larmairremener people.

2023.09.21 Leeawuleena's Shore. Late Afternoon. Early Spring.

A brief excerpt from a nearly half-hour recording made beside Leeawuleena ('Sleeping Water', in the Larmairremener language), also known as Lake St Clair, on a calm, cold night, with water gently lapping at the shore, where a Tawny Frogmouth is intently singing from a tree. Also occasional quiet sounds of a Ringtail Possum. (The constant roaring hush in the distance to the right is the sound of the Cuvier River rushing into the lake, about two kilometres away as the bird flies.)

Listening with good quality headphones (preferably open-backed) is recommended. This is a binaural recording.

Recorded respectfully on the land of the Larmairremener people.

2023.09.21 Tawny Frogmouth at Leeawuleena's Shore. Night. Early Spring. (Excerpt)

Recorded respectfully on the land of the Larmairremener people.

2008.12.12 recording: Zoom H2 (first generation) with standard issue foam windshield. (Track photo taken at Leeawuleena in 2008.)

2023.09.22 recording: Zoom F3 with binaural rig.

2008.12.12 → 2023.09.21 Leeawuleena Dawn Shore

Recorded respectfully on the land of the Larmairremener people.

2008.12.12 recording: Zoom H2 (first generation) with standard issue foam windshield. (Track photo taken at Leeawuleena in 2008.)

2023.09.22 recording: MixPre-6 II with binaural rig.

2008.12.12 → 2023.09.22 Leeawuleena Forest Dawn

Recorded respectfully on the land of the Nuennone people.

The Superb Lyrebird (Menura novaehollandiae victoriae) is not native to Tasmania: it was deliberately introduced there - by an ornithology group. Between 1934 and 1949, 22 Superb Lyrebirds were released at Mt Field National Park in the mid south and at Hastings in the far south. The Lyrebirds flourished, and continue to spread widely. Today, experts estimate that their population must be well over 10,000, if not even higher. The Superb Lyrebird has basically 'gone feral'.  And it's known to be having some negative impacts on forest ecosystems. However, one thing that I haven't yet seen discussed or studied is what negative acoustic-ecological impacts Lyrebirds might be having upon native and especially endemic Tasmanian bird species. Some forest soundscapes are being overwhelmed by multiple Lyrebirds, spread through the forest, simultaneously performing intricate, complex and well-projected mimicry for very long periods of time. Fascinating as this is, it's very hard to believe that the native and endemic bird species can communicate naturally and effectively, as they need to do, when such mayhem is going on.

2023.09.23 Superb Lyrebird Being Itself. Dawn. Huon Valley. Early Spring.

2023.09.24 Superb Lyrebird Mimicking Other Birds. Dawn. Huon Valley. Early Spring.

This is a very quiet, minimal recording, and would best be appreciated, understood and enjoyed if listened to with good quality headphones or speakers in a quiet space, or at a quiet time, with little or no extraneous noise penetrating the natural original quietude of the soundscape. (This is a very difficult thing to ask, to be sure; but what is the value of listening to a recording of quietude if the quietude cannot be heard and felt because of environing outside noise? Even good listening needs to be well-timed!)

This recording was made at midday while sitting beside a deep pool of water formed by a rivulet flowing into the nearby Styx River (near the Big Tree Forest Reserve, in the Styx Valley, Tasmania). The riverside was densely moist and green with moss, soft tree ferns, sassafras, myrtle and dogwood. Farther up the slope, majestic old mountain ash trees (Eucalyptus regnans) towered tall.

It was lightly raining; raindrops sifted through the forest canopy and giant tree ferns, sprinkling upon the surface of the pool, making very delicate sounds that could clearly be heard, even though the perpetual sighing hush of the Styx River filled the forest space. At the floor of the forest, the air was still; high above, a wandering breeze brushed the crests of the tall eucalypts. Here and there, Grey Shrike-thrushes were calling to one another. At that moment, I didn't know of the pool's secretive inhabitant. When I returned to sit by the pool again in the evening, I witnessed the platypus gliding silently and elegantly beneath the surface of the water.

This unprocessed recording was made with respect in the land of the Palawa people of Lutruwita/Tasmania. May these priceless, precious forests remain perpetually protected. Profound gratitude and honour to the many people - from all over the world - who have struggled tirelessly for decades against both government and business to protect these forests from logging - and must always continue to do so!

2023.09.25 Platypus Pool Quietude. Big Tree Forest Reserve. Styx Valley. Early Spring.

This excerpt from a longer recording focusses on First Light rather than Dawn (Second Light and Sunrise), although it includes the beginnings of the latter. It ought to be listened to with good quality headphones (preferably open-backed, with flat frequency response), or good quality speakers, at a mid-range volume. One of the things that particularly interests me, and that I especially enjoy, about this early spring First Light forest soundscape (and other similar early spring forest Dawn recordings that I made during this road trip to Tasmania) is precisely its very gradual, slow, minimal, and spacious development. This sounds nothing like an overly-busy tropical rainforest. The hush of 'silence' never completely disappears.

In this rich, dense, moist, cool-temperature southern forest of Tasmania, at the time that this excerpt begins, it is still fairly dark to the human eye. One of the earliest of First Light calls is (as usual) that of the Black Currawong (Strepera fuliginosa), a species of Currawong that is found only in Tasmania. Its call is quite unique, very unlike any mainland Currawong, and I grew to adore it, and to recognise it as the main Tasmanian forest sentinel of dawn. However, there is another very vocal and persistent early caller, here: the Yellow Wattlebird (Anthocaera paradoxa), also found only in Tasmania.

Early on, we also hear the final few night calls of Ninox novaeseelandiae leucopsis, which I would prefer to refer to as the 'Tasmanian Boobook', rather than its more common and familiar name, 'Morepork'. Both names are, of course, onomatopoeic labels provided by Europeans. But the name 'Morepork' suggests, to me, an image of radically displaced Europeans in an unfamiliar landscape, craving pork meat, and hearing this beautiful owl call as though it were expressing their own cravings: 'More pork!" (Interestingly, DNA evidence has suggested that Ninox novaeseelandiae is more closely related to the New Zealand Boobook (also commonly known in NZ as the 'Morepork') than to the mainland Southern Boobook (Ninox boobook).)

Gradually, the 'Dawn Chorus' stirs and unfurls into a more richly-populated wakefulness. Thankfully, the introduced and now feral Superb Lyrebirds, which have seriously infested this region, seem to be late risers that enjoy sleeping in: somewhat later in the original recording, they pretty much take over most of the forest soundscape.

Recorded with meditative respect upon the land of the Nuenonne tribe of the Palawa people.

2023.09.23 First Light. Huon Valley. Early Spring.

'Windy dawn quietude' might sound like a contradiction, but the recording earns the label 'Quietude' thanks to the complete absence of any anthropogenic noise. To be sure, the wind soughing through Mountain Ash forest and soft tree ferns dominates the soundscape, but the Eastern Smooth Froglets and the small birds of dawn nevertheless make their presence clearly heard. This excerpt from a longer recording, made in Great Otway National Park, Victoria, begins at Second Light.

Good quality headphones (preferably with a 'flat frequency response', and open-backed) are recommended, especially as this is a binaural recording. The original 96/32 recording has been converted to 48/24, but is otherwise entirely unprocessed.

Recorded on the land of the indigenous Gadubanud (Katabanut) peoples.

2023.09.07 Windy Dawn Quietude beside the Smooth Froglet Pool. Early Spring.

While staying for a week in Launceston, Tasmania, with my daughter, we were very fortunate to enjoy a private tour of Waverley Mills. Of course, I asked whether I could I bring my recording gear along to make some recordings in the factory. No problem. Here are some ear-glimpses. However, the one vitally important element that isn't heard in these glimpses is the people on the floor who make the whole manufacturing process happen. Their knowledge and skill, matured over many years, was deeply impressive. (I did record some impromptu informal 'interviews', or conversations, on the floor, but without particular individuals' (and management's) permissions, these couldn't be included, here.)

To provide some background to Waverley Mills, I quote from a description written by Susan West in 2017: "Waverley Mill was built 143 years ago [150 years ago today], in 1874. Waverley has survived two World Wars, the Great Depression, and the decimation of the Australian manufacturing industry. At its peak, Waverley employed over 300 people, and its beautiful blankets and fabrics were sold all over the world. Waverley even supplied Qantas with business and first class woollen blankets for all of their aircraft.

The wool manufacturing industry in Australia has virtually died. Today, most of our wool gets exported in its raw state to be processed in China. We then buy it back as fabric or finished goods. Only one woollen mill in Australia has survived all this – Waverley Mill. Unless we can save it, it will be lost forever. Waverley is a fully functioning mill – from carding and spinning, to dyeing and weaving. Waverley already has the equipment and staff to produce the highest quality rugs, throws, blankets, scarves and fabrics. ...

There are other groups making beautiful woollen products in Australia. Waverley Mills is the last mill to card, dye, spin, weave, and finish, all under the same roof. No one else is left who is doing all of that!"

Source: https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/australia-s-last-woollen-mill-needs-your-help#/

Track photo by Nina Hamilton, published in Emma Do (2019), 'Yarn for the Ages'. (https://www.broadsheet.com.au/national/fashion/article/inside-waverley-mills)

Recorded on the land of the Tyerrernotepanner (and possibly also the Pyemmairrener) people of Lutruwita (Tasmania).

2023.09.11 Waverley Mills. Launceston, Tasmania.

Narawntapu National Park is the first National Park in Tasmania whose name has reverted to the indigenous place name of the region (in the language of the Tommeginne people). (Unfortunately, I could not locate an indigenous name for 'Griffiths Point', which is within Narawntapu.).

The natural rocky point juts out into the sea at high tide and divides a wide estuary (to the west, left in this recording) and a long, broad sandy beach (to the east, right in this recording). Listening closely, from out on the point, the sound of the waves is naturally distinctly different on either side. Through the sound of the waves, calls of Sooty Oystercatchers can sometimes be heard.

Listening with good quality headphones is recommended, as this is a binaural recording.

Recorded on the land and water of the Tommeginne (and possibly also the Tyerrernotepanner) people.

2023.09.27 Griffiths Point. Narawntapu National Park. Morning. Early Spring.

This is a longer version of a recording of which a brief excerpt was posted a few months ago. The recording was made beside Leeawuleena ('Sleeping Water', in the Larmairremener language), also known as Lake St Clair, Australia's deepest lake, on a calm, icy night, with water gently lapping at the shore, where a Tawny Frogmouth is intently singing from a tree. Very quiet vocalisations of a Ringtail Possum can also be heard: these grow somewhat more frequent and clearer as the recording progresses. The Possum may be in the same tree as the Frogmouth, or at least very close by, because it seems, finally, to disturb the bird, which silently glides away. The recording then lingers for a few minutes more with the quiet sounds of the water, and the Possum, after the Frogmouth has flown farther along the shore. (The constant roaring hush in the distance to the right is the sound of the Cuvier River rushing into the lake, about two kilometres away as the bird flies.)

Listening with good quality headphones (preferably with a flat frequency response, and preferably open-backed) is recommended. This is a binaural recording.

Recorded respectfully on the land of the Larmairremener people of Lutruwita (Tasmania).

2023.09.21 Tawny Frogmouth At Leeawuleena's Shore. Night. Early Spring.

𝔈𝔵𝔭𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔯, 𝔞𝔰 𝔞𝔫 𝔈𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔱, 𝔞 𝔐𝔬𝔡𝔢, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞 𝔇𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔅𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤.

2023.09.06-29 To Tasmania and Back, by Car

𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕭𝖊𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘